"Bella! Oh, isn't it just the most awful thing?" Narcissa, the one Bellatrix only really remembered as a blonde little baby, came dashing up and threw her arms around Bellatrix. She hugged back and patted between Narcissa's shoulder blades, and she said rather awkwardly,
"There, there, Narcissa. I'm sure Gran wouldn't want us sad."
"What are you talking about?" asked the other sister, the one Bellatrix knew was called Andromeda. She was taller and leaner with heavily lidded eyes and dark auburn hair that fell in heavy waves around her ivory face. She scoffed and said, "Gran loved nothing more than everyone getting all worked up over a good death. So, Bella; I heard you got hurt. Mum sent us an owl at school. She said you'd been hurt, but you look all right."
"I'm fine. Thank you." Bellatrix smiled just a little, and her two sisters eyed one another curiously. Bellatrix huffed. She wasn't getting it right. She wasn't carrying herself right; she wasn't speaking right. She wasn't even sure what she was getting wrong. Luckily, Rodolphus came up with a glass of red wine and handed it to her, and she sipped very generously from it and thanked him in a low mumble.
"Hullo, girls," Rodolphus said to his sisters-in-law. "So sorry about your Gran. Really shocked to hear about this."
"We were absolutely gobsmacked when Professor Dumbledore called us into his office," Narcissa said, "and then he took us to Hogsmeade and Daddy came to bring us home. It's been mad. We have to go back to school tomorrow."
"Well, in any case, it's a damnable shame. She was, what, fifty-nine? Far too young. I'm really so sorry," Rodolphus said again. "Bella, they've got the food out, if you're hungry."
"Thanks. See you, girls." Bellatrix moved away from her sisters, staying close to her husband, and she muttered, "They were suspicious. I can't get it quite right."
"I don't know how to describe it," Rodolphus admitted quietly as they walked up to the table of stuffed mushrooms and grilled asparagus. "It's just… you're a little different in a way that's enough to notice but hard to pin down."
"Hmph." Bellatrix made a small plate of food and began eating it at a high top table, looking around the lounge of her grandparents' country house. They'd buried her grandmother out back in a dour ceremony, and Bellatrix had mucked up by barely recognising her grandfather and forgetting his name entirely. Pollux. His name was Pollux. And then she'd called him Grandfather, when apparently she'd spent her entire life calling him Papa. That would have been good to know ahead of time, she'd scolded Rodolphus.
After the burial, the mourners had come inside for a receiving line, where Bellatrix had stood in between her mother and father and had nodded at dozens of people she'd pretended to know. She'd recognised some faces from memories Voldemort had shown her in the Pensieve, and whenever she could, she'd preemptively said a name. Mr Avery. Mr Yaxley. Most of the time, though, she'd just said, Thank you so much for coming, and she'd felt like a bobblehead doll by the time the enchanted string quartet had begun playing sorrowful music in the corner.
"Rodolphus?" Bellatrix asked carefully, chewing a stuffed mushroom. She washed it down with some red wine, and he gave her a cautious look. She surreptitiously aimed her finger toward the young witch with the golden waves on the other side of the lounge, and she said softly, "That's Stella Nott, isn't it? I knew her face in the receiving line. She avoided my eyes, but she smiled a little."
"Oh. Yes, that's Stella," Rodolphus said, a bit awkwardly. Bellatrix chewed her lip, wondering why she didn't feel jealousy. That was her husband's lover. Shouldn't she feel jealous. She grinned and noted,
"Our names rhyme. Stella. Bella."
"You noted that years ago." Rodolphus sipped his own wine.
"I suppose it would be odd for us to go speak with her here in public," Bellatrix said, and Rodolphus scoffed gently.
"I don't think that would be appropriate, Bella. I can reintroduce you soon, if you'd like. She can't know, of course, that you don't remember her."
"No. Of course not. She's beautiful. She seems like a sweet girl," Bellatrix said, popping another mushroom into her mouth. She chewed it and rubbed at Rodolphus' arm a little. As she took another small sip of wine, swallowing her bite, he gave her a sad little half smile, and she reassured him, "I like that she makes you happy."
"You do?" He blinked quickly a few times, glancing over toward Stella and then back and Bellatrix, shaking his head a little. He whispered, "I always felt rather terrible, you know. Arranged marriage or not, in love or not, I always felt like a son of a bitch about it."
"No," Bellatrix insisted. She stared at Stella, who was animatedly discussing something with her father and Mr Avery. She was dressed in a beautiful flowing black robe, her narrow waist cinched by a wide satin belt. She was very pretty, Bellatrix thought, and she didn't mind one bit. Rodolphus should be happy. He was a good wizard. He served Voldemort bravely. He cared deeply about Bellatrix and didn't demand anything physically of her. Why shouldn't he be allowed to be in love and be happy?
"You are not a son of a bitch about it," Bellatrix told him, sipping a little more wine and squeezing at his hand. He let out a very long sigh, and suddenly his face looked so relieved that he almost seemed like he would cry.
"Bellatrix, dear?"
She turned at the sound of her name to see her father stepping up, his own face a bit puffy from real tears shed over the course of the day. After all, it had been his mother (and Bellatrix's Aunt Walburga's, apparently) who had passed so unexpectedly. Cygnus Black III put his hand on Bellatrix's shoulder and asked her sincerely,
"How are you holding up, sweet girl? I'm so shocked you've stayed so calm."
"Bella's a strong woman," Rodolphus said confidently, and Bellatrix knew he was covering for her. People had been expecting more of a reaction out of her. He was cueing her, she thought. She nodded and made her voice shake a little as she told her father,
"I think I'm still just in shock a bit. Can't believe she's actually gone."
Rodolphus nodded, and Cygnus squeezed at Bellatrix's shoulder.
"I know. I know. That'll take some time to sink in, I'm afraid. No more… oh, my. No more tea with Gran. Oh, Bella."
He wrapped her up into an embrace then, and Bellatrix felt him tremble a little with emotion. She rubbed at his shoulder, feeling very awkward, and she said,
"It's all right, Daddy."
Suddenly someone gasped, and a low voice murmured,
"It's him! It's Lord Voldemort!"
"I can't believe he's come!" someone else whispered frantically. Bellatrix pulled away from her father quickly and saw none other than Lord Voldemort, dressed in elegant, formal black brocade robes, sweeping confidently into the lounge of the Black family's country estate. People moved aside like a parting sea, making way for him, and the enchanted instruments' music even faltered for a moment, as if even the unmanned violins knew that a great figure had entered the room.
"Master," Rodolphus Lestrange said, bowing reverently as Voldemort stepped right on up to where Bellatrix stood with him and Cygnus Black. Voldemort nodded and flicked his eyes to Bellatrix, who couldn't help smirking a little at him. Voldemort ignored the awed silence and the dozens of eyes on him in the lounge, and he spoke loudly enough for most everyone to hear as he said,
"Cygnus. Walburga. Bellatrix, Narcissa, Andromeda… Pollux. Druella, Orion, Regulus and Sirius and all the relatives of the suddenly and shockingly departed Irma Black. My goodness. What a crater she has left in our community. What a monumental figure of grace and honour this witch was and always will be in our memories, hm? I came only very briefly to pay my respects and to offer you my most heartfelt condolences."
"Sir. I cannot… I could never thank you properly for…" Cygnus couldn't seem to find the words, so Bellatrix stepped up, tipping up her chin, and she said with confidence,
"The Black family is honoured beyond measure to have you recognise and acknowledge my grandmother's significance in the Pureblood community, sir, and to take time from your day to come here to our celebration of her life. We are most grateful to you for it. Perhaps, if it is not too much to ask, you might make a toast in my grandmother's honour, if I might fetch you some wine. Red or white?"
He curled up half his mouth, seeming almost proud, and he said softly, "Red, if you please."
"Of course." She walked quickly to the drinks table and fetched him a glass of red wine, handed it to him, and he cleared his throat, raising his glass and turning back toward the room.
"Let us drink to the memory of a witch who was a paragon of Pureblood virtue, a fine example of what it means to be a hard-working, honourable, kind-hearted woman of robust soul. Let us drink in honour of Irma Crabbe Black, whose blood was most pure, whose family tree is srong and stable. Let us drink for the keen loss we feel of her, and pledge to remember her always. To Irma Black."
"To Irma Black!" cried everyone in the room. Walburga and Cygnus Black both dabbed handkerchiefs at their eyes after they drank, and as Bellatrix sipped, she found Voldemort's eyes. Nobody seemed brave enough to approach him, and after the toast was over, the music started up again, and people began to engage in low, quiet conversation. Bellatrix walked straight up to Voldemort, standing quite near him, and she said softly,
"I thought you were entirely too important for funerals… Master."
He cocked up an eyebrow and sipped his wine. "Image is very important, Bella. Remember? Besides, I had absolutely no confidence in your ability to put on a good show."
"I was embracing and comforting my father right when you walked in," she said defensively, and he snorted.
"You looked like you'd never met the man. How did things go with your sisters?"
Bellatrix hesitated, and Voldemort sipped his wine, nodding.
"Mmm-hmm. Just as I suspected. I think you should come back to the manor with me. Tell your father you've got a monstrous headache from your injury. He's feeling just fine about me at the moment, so now's a good time for an exit."
"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix set her glass down, and as she passed Rodolphus, he asked gently,
"Are you leaving?"
She nodded, and he kissed her forehead and rubbed at her shoulder a little. She stared up at him, surprised by that, but he said very softly,
"You really are the best wife anyone could want, you know. And whether you're sad for it or not, I am sorry about your Gran, Bella."
"Thanks." She cupped his jaw and rubbed her thumb beneath his eye, and they smiled at one another for a moment before she let him go. She felt Voldemort's eyes on her, so she moved quickly away from Rodolphus and found her father.
"Daddy," she said, and he turned, looking much happier than before. Voldemort had been right; his mood was much improved from the toast given by the Dark Lord himself. Bellatrix informed Cygnus, "I've had an awful headache for over an hour now. Didn't want to complain. But the Dark Lord is a little concerned; he's like to do some healing, if that's all right."
"Oh, dear. Of course. Please, go do what you must. I only hope you feel much better very soon. I'm so very glad you were here. My sweet girl." Cygnus held Bellatrix's face and gave her a sorrowful little smile, and when he nodded, she covered his hands with hers and squeezed. She said a quick farewell to her sisters and mother and then walked outside with Voldemort, who hadn't spoken in a while. She went with him by Side-Along Apparition to Malfoy Manor, and by the time the reached the burgundy suite, she realised he hadn't spoken to her in fifteen minutes.
"My Lord?" she asked as he pushed open the door to the rooms, "Have I offended you in some way?"
"I was going to work with the Pensieve," he said, "but, erm… perhaps another day. I'll see you later. Make sure you get some dinner later on. Have a good evening."
"Wait." Bellatrix grabbed at his elbow, irritated, and he huffed a breath when he turned around. He pinched his lips at her and nearly slammed the door shut. Bellatrix shrugged and demanded, "What have I done wrong? Is it because I didn't act well enough? I did my very best! That was a lot of people to fool."
"I did not realise you and your husband were actually intimate," Voldemort said very tightly. 'If I'd known that, I would not have… pardon me, but I have no intention of being the second fiddle for a married witch."
"What?" Bellatrix snapped. Voldemort's eyes flashed, and he said sharply,
"I saw him kiss you and rub and your arm very affectionately. It is obvious that the two of you -"
"Were talking about his mistress before you arrived?" Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. "Yes. We were. We were discussing how I approve of him loving Stella. That kiss on the forehead and rub on the shoulder in the most physically intimate touch I remember Rodolphus Lestrange every giving me."
There was a very long pause, and Voldemort stared at the ground until he finally said, "Oh."
Bellatrix choked a bitter laugh. "You're jealous."
"Stop that," Voldemort snarled. "I will not be mocked."
"I'm not mocking you; I'm in disbelief," Bellatrix said. Voldemort's cheeks flushed very red, and he shrugged.
"Right. Anyway. I'll see you some other time. Sorry about your grandmother."
"Thanks again for the toast," Bellatrix said lightly, and Voldemort blinked as he reminded her,
"Image is very important, Bella."
"Hmm. Yes, it is." She crossed her arms over her chest and assured him, "I think you impressed plenty of people. Don't worry."
He narrowed his eyes at her and said, "You are disrespectful. Insolent, even."
She didn't answer him at first. She just walked over to the window, staring out on the gardens, and she said quietly,
"I think that attending my grandmother's funeral, where I was expected to be disconsolate, when I have no memory of said grandmother, is the strangest thing in the world. Except, perhaps I experienced something even stranger that I can't remember. My world is entirely upside-down. You'll forgive me, I hope, if I respond to all of this by being just the slightest bit… insolent."
"Fair enough." He appeared beside her, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his brocade robes, and he murmured, "I have never actually craved the same witch for a prolonged period of time, and I crave you on enough levels to render me rather helpless. You'll forgive me, I hope, if I respond to to all of this by being just the slightest bit jealous."
She smirked out the window and nodded, saying nothing. Voldemort reached for her hand, which she let him take, and he said quietly,
"Your husband can have his mistress. I can have his wife."
"That makes perfect sense," Bellatrix laughed quietly, turning toward him. "I happen to know, for he and I have discussed it ad nauseam, Master, that he will never protest."
"Good for him, and good for you, and good for me, then," Voldemort said, and he wrapped his arms around Bellatrix and crushed her mouth with his.
Author's Note: Awwww, yeah. Affairs are getting all official. Now for Bellatrix to see battle again. Mwah hahaha.
I am sooo glad that this story is getting tons and tons of readership, but it's not getting lots of love in terms of reviews, so if you are reading it and can spare a moment to leave some feedback, I would really appreciate it. Thank you very kindly indeed.